by Mary Jaine
Bethany nodded sombrely. "She's had quite a life, by the sound of it. What's she like?"
Nia looked at me, so I started. "Mum is...mum; she's funny, wise, smart, she's tiny and beautiful, a fabulous cook, she makes the best bread on the planet, and I'll fight anyone who disagrees, she puts up with my dad's awful jokes, she'll feed anybody at the drop of a hat, and she makes mango ice cream all the time; I virtually live on it. You'll like her. She calls me 'Huynh', which means 'Big Brother', but mostly she calls me 'little boy', which is a bit rich, coming from a tiny little lady like her! How about you, Bethany, have you any children?"
Her eyes went soft for a moment. "We have two; Ryan and Jodie. Would you like to meet them?"
Nia's eyes lit up. "Oh yes, please, but when?" and Bethany grinned.
"They're in the Lobby with Detective Regan; I couldn't get a sitter, and I didn't know where you were staying, so I called him, and he offered to bring me and the kids. I'll go get them!"
Bethany came back with two adorable little kids, a boy about six, and a little girl maybe a year younger, Ryan and Jodie. Ryan took after Corey, with a shock of jet black hair and grey eyes, but Jodie looked amazingly like Nia when she was that age, more proof, if any was needed, that these were her family.
We ordered dinner in the suite for everyone, and Corey and I watched Nia connect with Bethany, talking about their lives, kids, college...and our marriage plans.
Bethany looked puzzled at that.
"I thought you and Nia were half-siblings?" she asked, and Nia explained how we'd come about. Bethany was surprised and intrigued by our relationship, but chose not to make an issue of it.
"I won't hide anything from you," she'd told Bethany, "this is our family, warts and all. I've always loved Jamie, and he fell in love with me, we got engaged a few weeks ago, and we intend to get married as soon as we can. In fact, Jamie, you may as well know, the date booked for the church solemnization is July 16th, so no pressure, Polar Bear! Bethany, please come to my wedding, it would mean the world to me, and to mum, if you would!"
Bethany looked thoughtful for a moment.
"Just over two months away, I'm sure we can work something out. Corey?" Corey agreed, and so we were set. During our conversations one useful fact emerged. I happened to mention that we were getting married in Hong Kong, as per Nia's original plan, and Corey asked why we didn't just drive over to Reno and do it there. Because we were foreigners, all they needed was a photo document issued by a foreign government, and Nia and I both had UK driving licenses, which were acceptable as ID. They had different addresses, in different towns, so the names could be explained as coincidence, as Nia was not obviously my sister.
One odd incident; While Bethany and Nia were chatting, Bethany suddenly took hold of Nia's wrist and held up her bracelet, looking at it curiously. Nia asked her if there was anything wrong and Bethany shook her head, then said "I dreamed of a bracelet like this the other night, it was flashing blue light onto a tablecloth, and then my dream got all garbled, but I'm sure I've seen this bracelet before somewhere..." Nia looked oddly at her, and spoke slowly.
"I was...doing that...on Monday, in here, and I dreamed I gave you my bracelet, and you gave me a...a coin, or a medal or something, red, it was red and gold..." she trailed off as Bethany showed her the token the little boy Jamie had given her. Nia looked at me in confusion.
"No it's not ...possible, just coincidence, a fluke...Jamie?"
I made sure I was deeply in conversation with Corey so I didn't hear her; whatever had happened between Bethany and Nia, I had no explanation, and I wasn't about to start reaching for one.
We followed Corey's suggestion, and two days later, we were legally married in Reno, the chapel even taking our documents to the courthouse to get the license for us. Nia had finally decided that she didn't want to work for UNICEF, she was wary of being posted abroad for years at a time; we'd talked about starting a family and we couldn't very well do that if Nia was seconded to Yemen or Djibouti or wherever. I decided I needed a legal advisor, and she had an International Law Diploma, so I asked her to come and work with me.
So now, because we suddenly had no pressing reason to return home, no deadline date for Nia to start work, and I had a couple of weeks before I had to go away again on any assignments, we based ourselves in San Francisco for a few days, sightseeing properly, spending time with our new family, and bonding closer with Corey, Bethany and the kids
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Nia and I were pacing around the arrivals gate at Heathrow Terminal 3; Bethany's flight had touched down almost 40 minutes earlier, and Nia was getting impatient. I was trying to be reasonable; Heathrow in the summer is always a nightmare, it's the third busiest airport in the world, and it shows. The Arrivals lobby was heaving with people, and Nia resorted to standing on a seat to see if she could spot Corey anywhere, but so far no luck.
At last, she pointed, and I looked in the direction she indicated, seeing Corey's mop of black hair in among the crowd, so we waded toward them, Nia in my lee, holding onto my belt to avoid being swept away by the crowds. We finally caught them, Nia and Bethany hugging and sniffling at each other, and Cory and I exchanging handshakes. We'd left mum at home, waiting on tenterhooks, as we didn't think an airport was the place for a family reunion, so we headed down to the parking garage to load up and get back to South London.
The reunion was kind of what I expected; Bethany had been quiet, almost subdued on the drive back, but I noticed she had her hand tightly locked in Nia's, and Corey was stroking the back of her neck and whispering to her the entire time. When we arrived home, Nia took Bethany inside while Corey and I distracted the kids, unloaded the luggage and gave mum and Bethany a little time.
When we finally went inside, mum and Bethany were having their own moment of non-verbal communication, and Nia was smiling and crying at the same time, holding on tight to dad as her mother and sister reunited. Mum saw the children, and that's when she lost it, and I must admit, I had a fairly sizeable lump in my throat while I watched her hold and kiss her grandchildren for the first time ever.
Eventually, mum noticed Corey and I, and beckoned us over. Corey introduced himself, and mum hugged him, then pulled my head down to kiss me.
"Thank you little boy!" she whispered, and patted my chest, "now all my children in one place; I have my daughters here, and I have my little boy, and new son as well, you have done well, my little boy, sister is very proud of you, I can hear her laughing; listen carefully, and so will you!"
The wedding, our proper wedding, went off perfectly. We were married in church in Streatham, South London, in a Church of England church so Nia could have the bells ringing for her wedding day. She looked absolutely stunning in her white dress and long veil, with a silver tiara dad and I had bought her, and a trailing bouquet of white and pink roses dotted with vivid sky-blue Forget-me-nots. Bethany was her Maid of Honour, and she, Julie and Shelagh all wore pale blue gowns, Nia's favourite colour. Ryan was Page Boy, although he nearly rebelled when he saw the outfit Nia had picked out for him, and only some fast footwork and a couple of twenties persuaded him to accept his fate. Little Jodie was our flower girl, in a white crinoline dress and carrying a basket of rose petals (I know, but it was Nia's idea, her wedding etc.)
Mark stood as my best man, and Corey and Shelagh's boyfriend acted as Ushers. It was the wedding Nia had always dreamed of, the day we'd looked forward to for so long now; Reno was to legalise our union, today was when we would really become man and wife, in our eyes, and in the eyes of our family and closest friends.
We made love that night as man and wife, the culmination of all those years of being so close, a lifetime growing-up together, and the final act in our quest to be together. When I took Nia home, she really was my wife, in my heart as well as in fact, no longer my girl, not my sister anymore, but my real, true wife, and she was everything I'd always wanted.
I helped her out of her wedding dress, almost drooling with anticipation.
We'd stayed apart for the last week, Nia at mum's and me staying alone in the flat. She'd wanted our wedding night to be special, and now I was bursting with the need to make love to my beautiful wife. Wife! I still couldn't believe we'd finally gotten here.
As I peeled her dress off her, I re-acquainted myself with every feature of her body; her full lips, her smooth porcelain neck and flawless skin, her small, beautiful coral-tipped breasts, her elegant narrow waist, and, as her dress slipped down to the ground, her perfect, pert buttocks and pussy accentuated by the tiny thong she was wearing. She was wearing her blue diamond bracelet and a pair of antique earrings, and a pendant from mum's jewellery box, so that she fulfilled the 'something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue' wedding maxim.
She stepped out of her dress and let me admire her for a few seconds, but she was also eager for this night, and she wasted no time helping me unbutton and pull off my shirt, undo my belt and take of my trousers to stand in just my shorts, my excitement plain to see. I led her to the bed, and urged her to climb on, and lay down next to her.
Nia pulled herself closer to me, sliding her hands down to my shorts and gauging my erection, grinning as I squeezed her lovely bum and dipped down to lick and nibble her perfect nipples.
She slid my shorts down as I hooked her wispy thong with my thumbs and slid it off, Nia responding by kissing me firmly, determinedly, making a production of it. My cock responded, hardening even further against her, and I slid my hand down to find her pussy wet and ready for me.
"No foreplay, please Polar Bear!" she whispered urgently, "I've had to wait for you all week, and now all day today, please, make love to me, just fuck me, Jamie!"
To hear is to obey, and I pulled her on top of me, wanting to see her above me, so I could hold and squeeze her beautiful tits, suck her nipples, and kiss her while I pumped her, but Nia had other ideas.
"No, Jamie, like this, please!" she whispered, sliding off me to lie next to me, beckoning me over to her.
I moved between her thighs, Nia taking hold of my swollen cock and rubbing herself with the end, the moist heat from her soaking pussy delightful and very stimulating. She grinned at me as she continued to play with my cock, one of her favourite gambits before penetration, so I let her have her fun before I moved over her and began pressing forward.
Nia gasped as I slid into her, the feel of her tight hot pussy enfolding my cock almost indescribable. She began to move against me, the week of abstinence obviously making itself felt, and as I pumped, she pushed back against me, meeting me stroke for stroke.
At first I was content to keep a steady pace; the feel of her was incredible, and I wanted to keep hold of that feeling for as long as possible. Gradually our mutual efforts gathered pace and we moved faster together, my cock hammering into her, and her pelvis meeting me at every stroke as she pumped and ground against me. At last I couldn't hold back any longer, and as I felt myself gathering inside, that unstoppable urgency rising, Nia's head lolled back as she groaned loudly, her pussy clenching down tightly on me as she orgasmed. As the waves of her orgasm pulsed through her, I came in a surging tide of ejaculation, stream after stream of spunk shooting into her and bathing her womb, more than I think I'd ever come in my life.
At last, we slipped into the calm on the other side of our mutual orgasm, my ejaculation slowing to a trickle as I emptied out into my darling sister-wife, and Nia's orgasmic after-shocks slowing and finally dying away, and I slipped out of her and dropped down to lie next to her. Nia pulled herself up against me, hugging me. She leaned in and kissed me once, to get my attention, and grinned happily.
"OK Polar bear, I think we made a baby tonight!" she smiled, and I looked at her quizzically. She looked back with that cocked-eyebrow she does so well.
"Darling Jamie, I picked this date for a reason, for a very good reason. It's the right time in my cycle, and I stopped taking the pill a while ago, so hopefully we made our baby tonight. I hope so!"
She was right. Four weeks later, I was woken at five in the morning by the sound of retching, the flush going, then Nia coming out of the en-suite wiping her mouth. In my muzzy state I asked her if she was alright, and she grinned happily.
"Polar Bear, I'm just fine for a girl in my condition!"
It took a second for what she was saying to sink-in, then I sat bolt upright as Nia climbed on the bed next to me and hugged me.
"I was right, Jamie, you shot and scored, pat yourself on the back, we're having a baby!"
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Epilogue.
March 21st, 2011
Nia groaned and panted in the delivery room, holding tight to my hand as another contraction started.
"OK Nia, big push now, nearly there!" encouraged the midwife, "Yes, it's crowning, big breath ...and push, that's it Nia, Yes!" and the baby was, out, placed in the bassinet and the cord clamped and cut, and one of the nursing team intubated to clear the infant's lungs, allowing her to cry for the first time but there was no time to stop and admire the baby, Nia was having another contraction.
"That's it, Nia, breathe... breathe... breathe...now! Push, that's it push, bear down, Nia, steady pressure, steady, keep bearing down...and PUSH! That's it, that's it!"
The other little body slipped out and was deftly wiped and wrapped and placed on the bassinet to have the cord clamped, cut and taped and go through the intubation procedure.
Nia lay back, exhausted, but held her arms out to hold her babies and the nurses put one in the crook of each arm. She looked ...radiant is the only word I have, absolutely glowing as she held her children for the first time.
Nia looked down at the two tiny little people in her arms.
"Hello Jamie, hello Laura!" she murmured, and that's when I took the picture that sits on our mantelpiece.
"Alright Jamie, you can go now, we have ...things to do, and you're in the way. She hasn't finished just yet, so let her get a little more presentable! There's a whole room of people out there who want to see her, go talk to them, we'll call you when we're done, go on, out you go!" prodded the midwife, shooing me out of the delivery room.
I wandered in a daze into the Family Room, and there was mum and dad, Julie, Mark, Shelagh, all the people who meant anything to us. Julie had little Markie with her, and Shelagh had a huge floppy rabbit for each of the babies.
"All went well, a boy and a girl!" I announced, and mum grinned like sunlight, and dad cried like a girl. Mum handed me my phone, and I called Bethany.
"Bethany? Jamie. A boy and a girl!" I could hear the whoop of joy and then Corey picked up the phone.
"Jamie, we're leaving right now, her flight's in two hours, she'll be with you tonight. Congratulations, man!"
I handed the phone back to dad as the midwife poked her head in and nodded, so I went back to the room, to find Julie and Shelagh already chucking and cuddling the two little people, MY little people!
Shelagh handed Laura to me, and pecked me on the cheek, then went to retrieve Markie from her father, because men are not really supposed to handle newborns in case they breathe beer on them, or infect them with bad habits or something. I pondered on the fact that Julie had given birth only two days earlier; that must have taken some nifty planning, I mused.
Mum came in, so I handed her granddaughter to her, and leaned over to kiss Nia.
"Bethany's on her way, she'll be here in the morning. How are you feeling? I asked, and she bit her lip and grinned as she kissed me back tenderly.
"Like someone just pulled a beach-ball out of my arse, Jamie, how do you think I feel? I love you more than anything in this world, but don't you ever touch me again!"
THE END
* * *
Rag Doll
* * *
When I was just over 2 years old, my father left my mother and took me with him back to England, where he was born. I never knew this until much later in life. I always thought his wife, Barbara, was my mother, although he insisted I always called her by her proper name. As
I grew older, I began to realise that my father was not a nice or pleasant man. He had few friends, and we seldom had visitors, and those we had were usually people like him; abrupt, driven, money-obsessed, and consumed by the need to protect and hoard their possessions, including wives, children, everything they could buy or grab for themselves, at all costs. I was kind of the exception there. Through my formative years I knew I didn't like being around him, and avoided him as much as I could; he seemed to have the same aversion to me, and so his wife, a sweet, quiet lady, brought me up, almost in isolation from his other children, with whom I had soon discovered I had nothing in common with whatsoever, probably because they were smaller, piggier versions of him
When I was 11 years old, he decided I should attend the local secondary school instead of being tutored at home, for which I breathed a sigh of relief; being tutored with my two piggy little half-brothers was an excruciating experience, and I'd had enough of their spoilt whining and excessive demands for attention. Now at least I would be among kids my own age and could finally make some friends. I never understood why my father had forbidden us to attend primary school; I never asked, and he never volunteered an explanation, but at least now I would be free of the house and those poisonous brats he called sons.
I ambled through school, not the most gifted of students, not a slacker either, but definitely not academically brilliant. I wanted to be a mechanic; I loved cars, the thought of driving, of stripping down and rebuilding engines, transmissions, the thrill of firing up a rebuilt engine and having it turn over sweetly the first time was a recurring day-dream of mine as I laboured through calculus and trigonometry, or dissected Gray's 'Elegy In A Country Churchyard' to find the deeper meanings in it.